


Marvel Birthday Party One-Shots

by HollynRed



Series: Marvel Birthday Party One-Shots [1]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Assassin Bucky Barnes, Beach house sex, Birthday Party, Birthday Sex, Blow Jobs, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Bucky is James in this story, Dirty Talk, Drinking, Drinking Games, Drunk Sex, F/M, Hair Kink, Hydra Bucky Barnes, Iron Man - Freeform, Kissing, Light Angst, Light BDSM, Male-Female Friendship, My First Work in This Fandom, Nipple Play, Oral Sex, Reader and Thor are old friends, Romantic Friendship, Sex, Spanking, Taverns, Thurseblot, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Vacation, Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes, assassin reader, romantic sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-08
Updated: 2020-06-18
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:01:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24074131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HollynRed/pseuds/HollynRed
Summary: Smutty birthday party one-shots for all my favorite Marvel heroes and one gorgeous villain
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Reader, Loki (Marvel)/Reader, Steve Rogers/Reader, Thor (Marvel)/Reader, Tony Stark/Reader
Series: Marvel Birthday Party One-Shots [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1736824
Comments: 2
Kudos: 67





	1. Thor-Thurseblot and the Fair Maiden

**Author's Note:**

> Thurseblot is not technically a birthday, but having a holiday named after you totally counts.

Thurseblot and the Fair Maiden

Thor hadn’t noticed you at first from where you sat across the busy tavern; you had pulled your white embroidered hood over yourself earlier in the night to detract from unwanted attention. You hadn’t been aware the god of thunder would be making an appearance. 

“Fair maiden!” Thor joked once his eyes met yours. His cheeks sported a rosy blush from a night of drinking mead and ale, and he waved to you vigorously. 

It had become a kind of running joke between you, the most sought-after healer in Asgard, and the crown prince, that you were a “maiden”. Thor had innocent intentions when he first gave you the nickname, taking into account your all-white clothes, affinity for healing, and lack of a significant other. After the first time you had healed him personally and you had ended that night seated on the god of thunder’s face, he had begun to call you that ironically. 

You had met several times throughout Thor’s exploits and your travels. It was always a happy reunion when you did, like two old friends who knew a few of each others’ secrets no one else did. And a few tricks to get the other off. 

“Thor!” you waved back, a smile on your face, too. Thor started towards you, and you tilted your head, wondering what he was doing in this little tavern so far from Asgard’s capitol. 

You had taken a job to see to a little girl who required an exorcism in the mountains, but she was still a few days worth of travelling away. Still, this was the middle of nowhere, and an odd place for a prince to be. 

“Y/N! Fair maiden of Eir’s Guild! What brings you to this place of slum and debauchery?” Thor laughed loudly, clapping a massive hand onto your shoulder. Gently, to his credit. 

He looked as beautiful as he always did; like all of Asgard had come together to create one god that represented them all. He was the rays of the sun, the crackle of lightning, and the gold they used to build the city. His hair hung long, his armor clung to his whipcord-strong muscles, and his smirk held the pride of everlasting life. 

“A job I’ve taken in the mountains led me here, so I bought a room and tied Daffodil outside,” you explained, scooting over on the wooden bench so Thor could sit beside you. He took up quite a lot of room. 

“I haven’t seen Daffodil in a century! Ah, father permitted me to ride Sleipnir since the wilderness can be treacherous in these parts. Cannibalistic dwarves, and the lot. He’s a good stead, though he eats twice as much as a horse with four legs.” 

“Isn’t that Loki’s son?” you asked, remembering a story about Sleipnir you had heard long ago. 

Thor’s face twisted into a wry smile and he said, “He doesn’t like to talk about it.” 

“Well, what brings you here, prince? Is Asgard in danger, or are you on another restless hunting trip? I know you like to be out on your own sometimes,” you said, remembering a few of the chance encounters you’d had with Thor over the centuries. Some had been in the woods, when the two of you had both thought you were the only one wandering in the wilderness. 

Thor’s grin faltered for a moment when you said that, and he sipped his ale instead of answering right away. 

“I may be… neglecting some unimportant duties today. But Asgard won’t fall, I can assure you,” Thor mumbled into his cup. You put your hand over his, and he looked at you. 

You had a thought that had just occurred to you, though it made no sense. 

Isn’t today…? 

“Tonight is the first full moon of January, is it not?” you asked out loud, working through in your mind, “Thor, tonight is Thurseblot! What are you doing here, instead of the palace?” 

Thor looked guiltily to the side, scratching the back of his head. Thurseblot was a festival held in Asgard every first full moon of January since Thor was born, like a “birthday” by Midgardian terminology. It was an annual festival to honor Thor and his power. 

So what was the favored god doing so far from home? 

“You will think it is silly,” Thor said, his eyes strangely downcast. 

“I thought it was silly when you wanted to put on my dress and pretend to be a healer in the Halls of Vanquished Giants. Do you remember the look on your mother’s face?” You reminded him. 

“And when she saw you! My armor hung off of you ten sizes too small!” Thor was quick to smile at the memory and laugh with you. 

“So why don’t you want to be with everyone now?” You asked. 

“I… it will sound foolish, but I only wanted to have one festival to myself. To do with it what I wanted… even though, that makes me sound horribly selfish, doesn’t it? They made a festival in my name, I suppose I should want to be with everyone to enjoy it.” 

You snorted, “You will be hearing from Allfather about your misadventure away from the festival if you’ve been gone this long, but you might as well stay gone if you’re this late. The sun’s almost down.” 

“My line of logic exactly,” Thor confirmed with a satisfied nod, “You understand.” He finished the last third of his ale in one gulp. 

“I don’t understand at all,” You disagreed cheerfully, “but since you’ve opted out of a night at the palace celebrating your existence as a god, and you’re already here, I guess I have no choice but to perform my civic duty and help you celebrate Thurseblot.” 

Thor leaned back, and a knowing glint came into his eyes. He asked, “What kind of ‘celebration’ did you have in mind?” 

Whoever’s job it is to keep the crown prince out of trouble should have been fired at least a thousand years ago. 

And that was the beginning of how you ended up at a little tavern and inn hundreds of miles from any of your homes, rioting into the night with the god of thunder and other patrons who enjoyed alcohol. Thor had been shoving glass after glass at you all night, chugging mugs of ale at record speed himself. You’d corralled the other bar-goers to your and Thor’s table hours ago for drinking games that filled the bar with loud guffaws and slurred words. To your delight, a rosy glow and happy smile never left Thor’s face. 

Now you knew daylight would reach over the mountaintops in a few hours and peak into the window of your rented room, where Thor was moaning above you. The two of you had retired to your room a little while ago after stumbling and laughing-trying to help the others that were too drunk to theirs.  
“You’re so gorgeous, Y/N,” Thor said softly, trailing his lips along your neck. They felt soft, like petals, and a direct contrast from his rough hands that gripped your breasts and hips. 

You opened your legs wider to expose your dripping pussy. It was a silent plea for Thor to touch you there, and he was quick to oblige. He chuckled lowly, and stroked your wet folds with one finger. 

“I don’t remember you being into so much teasing,” you gasped, trying to grind onto his finger for a little more friction. Every time you would try, he would take his fingers away for a moment. 

“A true man knows the value of foreplay,” Thor countered, and didn’t let up. His erection, hot and throbbing in his pants, was pressed tightly against your thigh. He moved himself up and down slowly, enjoying the slide of your completely bared body against his clothed cock. 

God of thunder, you’re playing a game you won’t win.

You had an idea to make him move faster, alcohol sloshing inside of your brain and heightening your arousal to a nearly unbearable height. From the way Thor panted above you, you knew he couldn’t last much longer without real stimulation, either. 

“I remember something about you,” you began casually, and put one hand in Thor’s long, golden hair and one hand on his inner thigh. “I remember something you told me after I healed you, that day after you killed Hymir.” 

Thor paused from where he had taken one of your nipples into his mouth and was toying with it to say, “That I procured the most excellent cauldron ever seen by god or man?” 

“No, you arrogant ass,” you snorted, slapping his arm and ignoring his self-satisfied grin, “you told me that you were training one day, just you and Lady Sif, when she tripped and fell forward. On reflex, she grabbed you after you had ducked, and she yanked your hair like this.” 

You grabbed a fistful of long locks and tugged, just a little bit hard, but it was enough to send the enormous man gasping and lurching forward, further into your touch. 

A devilish look darkened your eyes when you said, “And I remember you told me that it made you so hard, you had to jerk yourself off the second you could get away. And you couldn’t look poor Lady Sif in the eye for a week.” 

“How did you…” Thor trailed off blearily, subconsciously rutting against your thigh harder now, “I told you that ages ago!” 

“A true genius never forgets her lovers’ kinks,” you said cheekily. 

“Will you do it again?” Thor requested, looking at you almost shyly. One of his hands was still fisted in the sheets. 

This isn’t something he tells everyone, then. 

You didn’t answer, but pulled with slowly increasing pressure on his hair, grabbing by the roots. Thor choked on a moan, bucking his body into yours and encouraging the touch. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, Y/N,” Thor ground out, biting onto the side of your neck to muffle himself, radiating a pleasurable pain through your body. 

“Are you going to keep your clothes on until morning?” you questioned, using your other hand to snap the waistband of his pants. 

Thor scrambled to take them off, shaky from ale and arousal, until he undid the buttons and had his pants down and kicked off the bed. He looked at you with longing. 

“May I eat you out, Y/N?” he asked, with one hand already playing between your legs. His fingers grazed your clit and circled the labia, driving you wild. 

“Please,” you asked, laying back on the bed. Thor wasted no time in positioning his face at your entrance, and you felt another gush of your slick well up inside of you just from how intimate the position felt. 

Thor was experienced, and it showed in the way he wielded his tongue. You couldn’t help but whimper and gasp; he was gentle with the way he would roll his tongue over your clit, but would go hard and fast when licking into your entrance, pumping his tongue in and out in a way that made you call out his name. 

You felt a familiar curl of warmth deep inside you, and you knew that you wouldn’t be able to hold out much longer without cumming. 

You reached down to yank on long, golden strands, which made Thor pull away from you to catch his breath. His erection was pinkish red and straining towards you; Thor looked at you with hunger that mirrored the look you were sure was on your face, too. 

“Fuck me, Thor, now, I can’t take it,” you managed to say, unable to stay still. 

Thor growled deep in his chest, and quickly grabbed your legs and slung them around his waist so that you were lying down with Thor on his knees in between your legs. You gasped when he hiked up your hips to line up his massive cock to your entrance. 

He was perfection, the way his muscles pulled taunt and beads of sweat glistened on his skin. His face was a mix of concentration and pleasure, and he heaved heavy breaths that were telling of how turned on he was. 

“You feel so fucking good,” Thor groaned, sliding the head of his cock into your tight, wet heat. He was big, and the stretch was borderline painful, but you thought it only made the slide in feel better. It made you feel closer. 

Thor’s eyes rolled back, sliding in just a little bit at a time until he was finally all the way inside you. Once you rolled your hips, signaling to him you wanted more, he started to fuck you, a few long, slow thrusts until he began a rhythm of short, fast strokes. 

It felt incredible, to feel his cock rubbing against all of the spots inside of you that not many could reach. 

“Valhalla, that’s-” Thor broke off, holding your hips with a vice grip as he pounded into you, “fuck, fuck, that’s so good!” 

You grinded down against him, but then eyed his golden hair, matting around his face with sweat and you got the idea to tug on it again. You pulled yourself up so that you were sitting in Thor’s lap, riding him at eye level, and he easily gave way to the change in position. 

It took you a second to steady yourself, lost in the sensation of bouncing on an enormous cock, but you grabbed hold of Thor’s hair like a lifeline, and pulled harder than you had before. The strangled cry that left the thunder god’s throat shook the room, and he drove himself further into you, and faster, from where he was trying to thrust from the bottom. 

“Harder, harder,” he begged, closing his eyes to enjoy the pleasure. 

Knowing you were reaching your limit, and Thor must be close, too, you wound your fingers into locks of his hair and pulled-pulling hard enough to hurt the average Asgardian but not nearly enough to hurt Thor-and pulled his face close to yours so you could swallow his moans in a kiss. 

You came first; pulling on the golden hair had a direct line to the thunder god’s cock, and he pounded into you relentlessly, the new angle allowing for intense stimulation on your clit, too. After a few of Thor’s enthusiastic thrusts you felt the build up and then rush of relief as your pleasure crashed down onto you, making you clench your hands even tighter in Thor’s hair, which was all he needed to follow your orgasm. 

Thor pulled away from your lips to cry out incoherently, and you felt pump after pump of his seed spill inside of you. It felt satisfying, to enjoy the last waves of your orgasm as he gave a last few exhausted thrusts inside. Later, it would occur to you to eat a bundle of herbs that cancelled early pregnancy, just in case. 

Removing your hands from his hair, you pulled off of Thor and fell to one side of the bed in a happy slump. Thor followed you down, still panting hard. 

He smiled his signature smile that could light up the skies of Asgard and said, “That was the most exciting Thurseblot I’ve ever had. Thank you, my fair maiden, for celebrating it with me.” 

Later, Thor’s friends would make up a tavern song about the Thurseblot Thor was missing from home to fuck a beautiful woman he’d met at a party. You’d laughed the first time you heard it.


	2. Tony Stark Lived to See Another Year

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A one-shot about Tony Stark spending his birthday with you. Things don't quite go as planned.

Tony Stark Lived to See Another Year

“Don’t give me that face, you know what it does to my heart,” Tony Stark teased you in an exaggerated tone, placing a hand over the arc reactor. He’d quickly assessed the hand on your hip and the curl to your lip as a bad sign. 

It was his birthday, after all! And he wanted to spend it working when you were standing in front of him in your cute, royal blue bikini? 

“Listen, listen, honey, it will be a quick trip,” Tony reasoned, pleading with his eyes, “so quick you won’t miss me! It’s just, you know, the guy who’s technically a god and the guy who isn’t a god with a god complex and a frisbee relic can’t always function without me. I can’t stop this vicious cycle, I really can’t.”

Tony always talked too much when he knew he was doing something you didn’t like. But he had planned this vacation for the two of you over a month ago to celebrate his birthday together in a beautiful, high tech beach house, and you had been so excited to have alone time with him (and you couldn’t help but feel guiltily mad at the other Avengers for calling him when they knew he’d taken a special vacation with you). 

Earlier that day, he’d made love to you on the beach when you’d arrived at the remote location, and it had been one of the most beautiful and intimate moments you’d experienced. His eyes seemed a deeper shade of brown and warm, and the way he had gently rocked with you felt as soothing as the pull of the tide. When you had tipped over the brink of pleasure and came, you were staring up at the blue, cloudless sky, and when you took your hands and scratched down Tony’s back, you’d felt where his skin was warm from the sun.

Afterwards, Tony tugged your arm to get you up from the plushy beach towel to explore what he had been absolutely giddy to show you. Tony had outdone himself in the details, as usual. Every room had the best smart T.V.s, consoles, tablets, and a mini lab in the downstairs filled with mechanical parts. The glass windows that showed the vast expanse of sand and sea were made to be bulletproof and hurricane resistant. Most rooms were themed aqua, dark silver, bronze, and white, and made by an architect your boyfriend had known for a long time. He’d saved the best for last to show you the master bedroom, with a T.V. more akin to a movie theater screen, a mini robot that retrieved snacks and drinks, and an enormous “luxury waterbed” next to a foaming jacuzzi. 

“Hey, I know how much this means to you, too,” he said, breaking into your thoughts, “and I wouldn’t leave if it wasn’t do or die. I want to be here, but, when Fury needs me and we’re this far away from New York, it isn’t for a meeting.” His eyes looked so torn it broke your heart. 

“No, I’m sorry, I know how important it is that you do your job,” you say with a smile on your face you hope looked convincing, “just come back when you can, okay? And don’t you dare get hurt.” 

“Always will and never do,” Tony assured, taking a step to close the gap between you two so he could lay a kiss on your head, and then one on your lips. He held you, and held on for a few seconds longer than usual when he pulled away with a longing smile. 

Now hours had passed since Tony had pushed the little button on his watch for silver, red, and gold mechanical part to fit themselves around his body, and the blue light of his blasters had faded from the horizon. Sometimes it made your breath catch to think about how much genius it would take to create what he does, and you found yourself wondering what the inside of Tony’s mind looked like. You pictured a hyper-organized laboratory with the world’s largest electronic filing system and all of the mechanical parts ever made spread out on a table that spanned football fields. 

You sighed, going into the fridge to look at the cake you had ordered for Tony to be brought to the house. It was a three tied chocolate cake with peanut butter frosting-his favorite. Tony Stark lived to see another year was written in white icing at his insistence. 

You closed the fridge and were about to change out of your cute, silky bikini with plenty of cleavage and ass exposed, when you heard a loud 

CRAAASSSHHHH 

Followed by the sound of hundreds of shards of glass clinking off the floor in the living room, and your heart felt lodged in your throat. 

Will Tony be okay? You thought, instantly rushing barefoot through the long hall from the kitchen to the living room, What if this mission was too much? What if someone followed him home this time? Your blood hammered in your veins, and you felt your legs run on autopilot as you skidded to a halt at the entryway and saw where the glass wall was entirely shattered, with the TV thrown into the saltwater aquarium and the couches and chairs all shoved against the far wall in what must have been the impact. 

Most concerning, Tony’s suit was sparking and fizzling in a crumpled heap in the center of the floor, and he wasn’t moving. 

“TONY!” you screamed, cutting your feet on the glass as you ran to him, slamming your knees on the ground beside him and ignoring the crunching sound it made. “Baby, please, are you okay? Tony?” 

“Just… just resting for a second,” he answered you in a ragged breath, and you could have sobbed from relief, “you should have seen me, Y/N. This wasn’t amateur’s night. Cap was… ugh, fuck, my leg,… Cap was outnumbered by these underground creatures a Fields Medal wannabe was trying to construct from outdated equations in an old book. Pretty sure they didn’t realize half of it was fictional alchemy. They should leave science to the pros, because whoever came up with those things should have left them in protype…er, JARVIS! REPAIR PLEASE!” 

A sigh of relief felt pulled from your body. Tony was still Tony. He wasn’t gravely injured enough to stop comparing his inventions to others’ less successful attempts. He would be fine. 

He must have pushed a button inside of his suit, because the metal parted away from his face so he could look at you. He had been looking at you with smug satisfaction, as if he couldn’t believe he’d gotten away with what he did (this time, not dying) and he was extremely pleased that you were there to witness it. A split second later, all of his features bloomed into a look of concern. 

“Y/N, you’re- JARVIS, REPAIR Y/N FIRST, I WANT INSTANT MEDICAL ATTENTION!” Tony called, and you heard the mechanical trilling voice of Jarvis answering and a mechanical rattling in the background. 

Tony wasn’t making any sense, but you looked down and felt a queasiness in your stomach and blurring at the edges of your vision. Where you’d skidded down next to Tony, your legs had been cut by tons of shards of broken glass and you were sitting in a little dark red pool. You couldn’t quite feel the pain from the adrenaline, but you felt nauseous and like you were swaying. 

“S-sorry,” you stuttered, “I just had to make sure you were okay… I heard the crash and came running to find you….” 

“No, baby, don’t apologize,” Tony assured, with pain in his eyes that had nothing to do with his crash landing, “I’m going to have us both fixed before you know it, I promise. Just stay awake with me, baby, okay?” 

You had been going to tell Tony you were sure he could fix anything, but by the time he said “I promise”, your vision had swam much faster and worse than it had been before, and by the time he’d said “awake”, you’d already felt your eyes closing shut and your body tipping forward. 

When you awoke, you were on the waterbed with an icepack on your forehead. You groaned, rolling onto your side, and you were met with Tony’s face looking at yours with a mix of relief and concern. 

“You scared the hell out of me when you fell over,” Tony murmured, reaching a hand out from under the covers to stroke your hair. It felt wonderful and soothing and distracted you from feeling dull, sore feeling in your legs. 

“Did Jarvis fix us, then?” you asked, looking at him with similar anxiety. His crash landing had looked pretty bad. 

“Yeah, all I had were some scrapes and bruises; the suit took most of the impact. You, however, ran barefoot on glass and then sat in it. You’re okay, though, the microstiches and skin grafts worked perfect. Artificial skin, in case you were wondering,” Tony said with a wink, and you looked under the covers to take a look. 

Your legs looked fine. Like you’d never landed knees-first in the glass at all. Feeling the new skin there with your fingers, it felt the same as it had before. 

“This should have taken months to heal,” you marveled, tracing your legs, and one of Tony’s hands joined yours, but to grip your upper thigh. 

You gasped, and he chuckled. 

“Feeling better?” he asked with a glint in his warm eyes. 

“Yes,” you answered breathlessly, opening your legs wider. 

“Don’t ever do it again, but thanks for running through broken glass for me.” 

“I hope I never have to,” you said with a happy sigh when Tony’s hand went higher to stroke your clothed pussy-he’d taken you out of your bikini to dress you in comfy sleep shorts and a t-shirt. The combination was not exactly what you would have picked out for yourself to be sexy, but you supposed Tony wanted you to be comfortable after your injury. 

“Are you feeling up to it tonight?” Tony asked earnestly, never stopping his ministrations, “We don’t have to do anything just because it’s my birthday. It’s not like I don’t have more than a few of those under my belt.” 

“I want to,” you assured, silencing him with a roll of your hips down onto his hand. Heat gathered between your legs as he slipped a hand inside your shorts and underwear to stroke your sensitive folds. 

“Let me take the lead tonight, then,” he said with a deeper tone then before that shot arousal through your body and made you squirm unconsciously. 

Tony feeling dominant would mean he would be gentle and aggressive; gently holding you as if you would break and aggressively fucking into you as if nothing in the world could break you. His eyes would be loving and the hold on your hips or your hair would be brutal. He felt like the waves that crashed against their little space of paradise, thrashing forward with an air of violence and then retreating with a gentle caress against the sand.

All you could do was moan as he flipped you over and slipped you out of your clothes, quickly and then laughing with you when your shirt got stuck on your head. He easily wrestled you back down into the covers, where he sank lower until his face was level with your exposed cunt. 

He flattened his tongue and stroked firmly from your clit to the opening of your vagina and back again until you were crying out for him to fuck you, but he wouldn’t. Tony held your legs apart to keep you from squirming, and pointed his tongue so he could ease it inside of your throbbing pussy and lick your wetness from inside you. 

“Tony, come on,” you whined, “I’m ready, I swear to God, I’m ready, just fuck me!” 

To your dismay, he pulled his tongue out of you with a low chuckle. 

“Whose special day is it?” he teased. You couldn’t see his face from where he was under the covers, but you could imagine the smug look on his handsome face.

“Yours, so why aren’t you inside me yet?” You whined, unable to help bucking your hips from where Tony held them. 

A jolt went through your body when he pushed two fingers inside you suddenly, fucking you with the digits in a way that made you shudder against him and moan. Sometimes you felt he treated you like one of his experiments when you were intimate; he’d check for your expression or watch the way your body moved when he’d touch you, trying to see what made you tick and what you liked. You couldn’t say you didn’t enjoy being what he tried so hard to figure out just to throw him off course once he thought he might be getting somewhere. 

“I can’t wait anymore,” he groaned against you, pulling out the fingers you tried to keep inside of you. 

“I want you,” you told him, and your voice came out soft and reverent. Tony moved to be on top of you with his erection pressing against your thigh. His eyes had been closed, but he opened them to look at you and the force of the love you found there made your breath hitch. 

If originally you had been expecting fun and fast fucking or even something a little kinky for Tony’s birthday, those thoughts fell from your mind as he kissed you, covering your body with his and consuming your thoughts with his tongue. Your hands tangled in his hair and he moaned softly into the kiss, angling his head so he could deepen it. 

It felt like a massage, the way he caressed your mouth with his and rubbed his entire body against you. When your clothes had come off, or his, had been a blur of caressing hands and soft whispers. You scratched your nails softly down his bare spine and watched in fascination as Tony arched into your touch, then moved his hand to stroke your breasts. 

“I love you so much,” he whispered over and over, building your crescendo to a peak of all-consuming love and lust that when he finally put the head of his cock against you entrance and moved inside, you felt like a livewire, feeling every ridge of him as started a slow, deep pace where he pull out halfway before sliding back in as far as he could. 

“You feel so good, Y/N, you always feel so good,” he whined softly, picking up the pace, but committed to going inside of you as deeply as he could. 

It felt so right, and you felt your pleasure coil inside of you, each thrust inside bringing you closer to edge. You gripped onto Tony’s back, digging your nails in just slightly the way he liked, and he gasped, his hips stuttering momentarily before going faster than before. 

His panting came out in ragged breaths the closer he came to finishing, which spurred on your own pleasure, too. 

You could become absorbed in watching him like this while chasing your own pleasure. His eyelids would droop heavier with lust, and his body felt powerful above you and inside of you. He would call our your name, and how tell you how good he was feeling. Feeling his hips collide with yours was an enthralling sensation in its own right. 

“I’m- ah- I’m going to cum,” he told you breathlessly, “can I cum inside you?” 

“I want you to,” you insisted, your hips moving with his. His pace became uneven, but hard, and your eyes rolled back from how good he could make you feel. You thought you would break from how hard your heart was beating and the tight, coiled pleasure between your legs made your toes curl. 

Tony cried our your name with his eyes shut, pumping into you with the satisfying sensation of his cum spilling against your walls. His last, exhausted thrusts as he chased the rest of his pleasure tipping you over your own peak, and it felt like you’d jumped off the cliffs outside into the waves. It was an explosion of your pleasure that felt sudden, like the shock of your body smashing against the water. Tonight had been so intense it would have been painful if you hadn’t loved every second. 

When you both had come down from your high, and Tony had insited on being the one to clean you both off, you lay side by side with him on the waterbed. It had only just occurred to you again that it was in fact a water bed, and moved differently under your weight in a comfortable way. 

“Besides the illegal experimentation you had to deal with and the cuts I got on my legs, did you have a good birthday?” you murmured, playing absently with his hand and tracing the contours. 

“Of course,” he said, flippant once again, “who wouldn’t want to save the day and get the girl in the end?” 

You snorted in an unladylike way that made Tony laugh, and then he perked up. 

“The cake!” he remembered, getting up out of bed to get a slice for you, and one for him. You had both meant to eat it with forks, really, but in the end you’d ended up licking peanut butter frosting off of each other, and laughs quickly turned to moans once again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave a comment if you can! I'm still new to posting, and any feedback would be appreciated.


	3. James-Room 829

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a long day, you and James are both in the mood for a celebration.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one took a little while because it’s long, but I hope you enjoy it!

Room 829

“You didn’t have to get me anything,” James said with a half-embarrassed smile on his face. 

Maybe it was odd for one assassin to buy another a birthday ensemble in the field, but then who else would? 

In the shitty motel you stayed at with James, you’d laid out a red and white “Happy Birthday” table cloth on the coffee table, with a slice of convenience store confetti cake and a small gift you’d wrapped up in newspaper. 

“You don’t want it?” you deflected, “because I’ll absolutely take the gift I got you.” 

“I don’t even know how old I am.” 

That wasn’t horribly uncommon, not with his conditioning. But coddling him would make it worse, because it would only force him to remember more. 

“Don’t worry,” you laughed, “everyone stops counting after 29.” 

“You think I’m fucking thirty?” He scoffed, laying his metal arm over his heart in mock indignation. 

“Thirty-two at least!” You shot back before sinking into the couch, “Now don’t you want your birthday gifts, old man?” 

James rolled his eyes, which were such a gorgeous shade of calm blue set in a man who snapped bones, before coming to join you with an exasperated chuckle. He wasn’t wearing a shirt, and you didn’t know if that was because he really hadn’t brought one to the bathroom when he’d been cleaning up an injury he’d gotten on his shoulder today, or if he wanted you to ogle him. With his silent chaos it could honestly be either. 

Today hadn’t been about killing-only spying. You and James were assigned to track three agents from an organization in Switzerland that was experimenting with the creation of chimeras. Once you could be sure all of their information could be stolen, the two of you would eventually wipe out everyone involved in the laboratory and every chimera created. 

But that was tomorrow’s problem. Today, you had spent more time researching the passwords the agents typed into various security devices in the facility, and unfortunately, on your way out, James had a nasty scrape with some barbed wire. 

Fortunately, the time it took him to clean his wound when you both got back to the motel gave you enough time to put together this humble spread before he could see. As well as ditch your field clothes for a pair of tight jean shorts and a white V-neck t-shirt. 

There was no need to play coy, you liked getting assigned to work with each other for two reasons: you were both good shots and good fucks. Maybe somewhere along the line, you’d even become friends, though neither of you dared say the word out loud. 

“This better be good,” James said with a gleam in his eyes you interpreted as a double entendre by the way he couldn’t help a glance at your cleavage and a shift on the couch.

“It will be,” you sing-songed, then grimaced when you picked up the plastic container and spork, “actually, the cake I can’t promise.” 

James took the cake from you, opening the plastic lid with a squeak and taking an inquisitive sporkful of vanilla cake, white icing, and sprinkles. 

“Tastes like cake,” he approved, quickly going in for a second and third bite, “it’s good, actually.” 

“Let me taste?” you asked, leaning in. He held out a bite for you to take, and you made of show of locking eyes with him before taking the cake gently in your mouth and sucking the white, plastic utensil clean before letting go. James held your gaze and you watched his adam’s apple bob in his throat. 

“That’s a dangerous game you’re trying to play,” he warned playfully, but that was how he seduced. His danger didn’t put you off, it turned you on. 

“I’m in the wrong line of work if I don’t like danger,” you countered, patting the couch cushion you sat on. To anyone else the couch wouldn’t look amiss, but you and James had stuffed it with sniper rifles. 

James took the last bite, savoring the extra icing on the side before agreeing, “Yeah, I guess you’d be a bad shot if you were jumpy. And you always nail a target.” 

“Kinky. Now open your present,” you insisted, pushing the haphazardly wrapped crinkle of newspaper into his much larger hands. 

He smiled at it for a second before tearing through the newsprint, and that smile warmed something in you you hadn’t felt in a while. It felt nice, but you didn’t quite know why. 

As he ripped away the paper and dropped it to the floor, your heart started beating irrationally-you had no idea the moment James actually opened your gift would be so nerve-wracking. Maybe it was too odd, given the severity of your jobs… 

“Oh my God,” he said reverently once he could see what you put inside, and delicately lifted a fold-out knife with a long, black handle, “This is the Espada knife from Cold Steel! It’s made out of Carpenter CTS XHP alloy steel-holy shit these things go for over $400! How did you pick this up on the road?” 

A breath you didn’t know you’d been holding released from your chest upon seeing his lighted expression with the gleaming knife in his hand, “I stole it out of some dad’s pocket when we stopped for McDonald’s. He hasn’t used it once, I checked.” 

“Thank, Y/N,” James said, running his finger along the blade before sheathing it once again, “this is the best birthday gift I’ve gotten in, well, a while, I guess.” 

“No,” you said, taking the knife from him to place it back on the coffee table, “it isn’t.” 

His pupils dilated when you put your hands on his thighs and arched your back up so he had a wonderful view down your shirt and your ass stood out. Taking the hint, he grabbed you around the waist with one warm hand made of flesh and one cold hand made of steel to hoist you up onto his lap. 

“You love to do things to me,” he groaned, groping your left breast through your bra, “that make me want to do very bad things to you.” 

“Tell me,” you demanded more than asked, rolling your body with his touch. 

James’ long, dark hair had fallen into his face in a way that made him look wild instead of vulnerable paired with the lustful, hungry look in his eyes. You moved your head down to kiss and suck his neck, making his breath hitch before he answered, “When we’re crouched together and you just know you’ve got someone cornered, that look in your eyes is enough to make me hard sometimes. It’s the same look you give me right before you do something to me you know is going to make me cum.” 

His dirty confession left you momentarily breathless, but when you detached from his neck, James lifted your chin up for a kiss. It was hard and sloppy, both of you grinding against each other to find friction you desperately wanted. 

James’ lips tasted like vanilla frosting and you savored the way you melded together violently. Your hands found their way to the back of his head to tug at the baby hairs that were sensitive there, and he moaned under the touch. 

“I want to suck you off tonight,” you gasped away from the touch, “because I like watching your face when you’re about to cum.” 

James eyes were heady with desire, and he shoved you a little further up his hips so he could have room to unbuckle his jeans. 

Putting your hand over his to stop him, you asked, “Let me?”

“F-fuck,” James stammered, laying back to watch as you first crossed both arms over your chest to take your shirt off. He tried to reach with his silver hand to unclasp your lacy bra, but you slapped his hand away. 

“No touching yet,” you warned, grinding your hips down onto his and making him squirm. 

“Not even for my twenty-ninth birthday?” he tried, eyes hopeful with his fists clenched at his sides to stop himself from grabbing you. 

“Especially not,” you laughed, unzipping and lifting to slide your denim jeans down, exposing your thong, “but maybe I’ll give you a birthday spanking.” 

“I’d like to give you one,” he said, staring at your ass as you slid down your thong, which was already wet. 

‘Oh fuck, why does that sound so good?’ you blanched, and decided to take a detour from your plans. 

Gazing at him as you unclasped your bra and slid down the straps, you leaned over his lap so you were splayed across him. 

Looking back expectantly, you asked, “Well?” 

“Wait, really? You want me to?” James asked, taken aback but with a newfound excitement. You’d never asked him to do this before, but by the look on his face, he wasn’t opposed. 

“Do you want to? Because- AH!” the sudden slap that radiated a delicious stinging on your right ass cheek gave you your answer. You recoiled more from the sudden burst of lust that exploded in your body at the contact more than the pain. 

That being said, he did hit hard. 

“You good?” he asked, smoothing his other cool, metal hand over the skin he’d slapped. 

“Do it again, but harder,” you ground out breathlessly. You’d turned to look at the floor and couldn’t see his face, but you heard the shaky intake of breath behind you. 

Not watching to see if he wound his arm back added to the unexpectedness of the sensation every time his hand would come down on your ass. Once committed, he was unforgiving. 

“Ah, ah, James, fuck, ah!” your small pleas and pants worked to spur him on more and each CRACK, CRACK, CRACK of his hand only brought you closer to brink of bliss you didn’t know could be experienced this way. Every slap shot tingles of pleasure straight to your cunt and you were sure he could feel some of your wetness on his jeans. 

You were out of control of yourself, grinding on his leg the more he went, craving more of the pain and the way you could get the hard friction of humping against his leg. 

“This is what I want to do to you when you change right in front of me and I get to stare at your ass,” James told you, his tone dark. You were getting so close to your peak it was over when he said the next words, “the first time you did it, I masturbated thinking about you and how good you looked for a week. Before you actually let me touch you.” 

You came with a cry and one final slap that painted your upper thighs under your cheeks a delicious shade of pinkish-red. The lingering heat and his cool, soothing hand running up and down your ass made your waves of pleasure pulse harder and let your climax last-it was bliss. 

“Are you still good?” he asked, rubbing your cheeks up and down. 

“Y-yeah, just in aftershocks,” you replied, “please tell me you’re down to do that again sometime.” 

“Whenever you’ll let me,” he said, and for the first time you noticed the tent in the front of his jeans. His hand would run over it absently, but you still hadn’t told him he could touch yet and you swatted it away. 

He looked to meet your eyes, his still blown with lust as he grinded his body up to get friction against yours. 

“No,” you said, wincing as you pulled yourself off of him, “I still haven’t forgotten about wanting to make you cum in my mouth.” 

You didn’t stop James as he eagerly undid the belt buckle himself this time, or when he flipped open the top button and unzipped his blue jeans in a rush. He looked eager to be touched the way he would arch into your nails as you sunk between his thighs and rubbed up to his belt of Adonis. His muscles jumped at the slightly painful contact as you dragged them down his skin. 

He stood up so you could pull his jeans and briefs down his legs, eagerly sitting back into position and waiting for you to start. 

You wanted to give James exactly what he wanted, but where was the fun in not teasing him? 

You cupped his balls in one hand, and he let his head fall back on the couch with a deep exhale. You took the tip of your tongue and trailed it along the seam of his balls and then back again, not actually touching his cock. 

James let this go on for a few minutes-you paying all of the attention to his balls, licking and then lightly stroking the skin to draw small, stifled moans out of the muscular beast of a man-until he cracked. 

“When are you going to touch my cock?” He asked in a groan. 

You trailed your tongue along the base before kissing back down to his balls. 

“C’mon, Y/N, I want it, come on,” he tried, bucking his hips a little, but stopping when you pulled away. Satisfied, you resumed. 

“You can do a little better than that,” you told him, continuously giving little licks to the base and refusing to go higher, “if you want me to suck you all the way down.” 

“Fuck yes, Y/N, I need it,” he gasped. 

“Better,” you told him, licking a long, lazy stripe from the base of his cock to the tip of his head and then giving it a swirl with your tongue. 

“I need you to make me cum,” he said helplessly, throwing his head back again when you suckled the head into your mouth and used the tip of your tongue to keep swiping over the slit. 

“Just like that, just keep doing that,” he moaned louder, trying to restrain himself from bucking into your mouth. 

Once he started giving involuntary little half-thrusts he couldn’t help and working with you, getting into his pleasure, you took him a few inches deeper and started bobbing your head up and down. 

He lost his mind when you hollowed your cheeks and took him in earnest, fitting most of his heavy cock in your mouth, but not going down to the base just yet. The sounds he made would keep you at night for weeks after this assignment ended, you knew, and would haunt you until you were partnered together again. 

Half moans and stifled grunts became full gasps as you made the friction tighter and moved faster. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see his toes curling in the carpet. 

“I’m gonna cum, Y/N, don’t stop I’m so fucking close to cumming!” He , eyes locked with yours. 

You felt satisfaction coil deep in your stomach and let it show on your face, holding his gaze and making James watch when you took him all the way down. 

You groaned against his throbbing cock, and the vibrations paired with the intensity in your eyes and the delicious friction of rubbing against your mouth and throat made his balls tighten and fireworks shoot behind his eyes. James came with a shout everyone in your hallway must have heard, squeezing his eyes shut tight against the pleasure wracking his body. 

“Holy fuck that felt good,” James sighed in deep contentment, going boneless against the couch. 

“Good enough for a birthday present?” You inquired, but you knew it was. His thighs still trembled under your nails. 

“Is my birthday present over?” He lifted his head to ask, with a look half-caught between hopefulness and desire that would have pulled you in no matter how exhausted from the job you’d been. 

He was spent at the moment, but soon enough he’d be ready to go again. 

“Not even close,” you promised with a look of your own that left him reaching to pull you back up on the couch, which you wouldn’t be leaving for the rest of the night. 

Eventually, the two of you would have to complete the mission and go your separate ways, but around this time of year, you always seemed to find a reason to be together for more cake and warmth and lust shared between you. 

Whatever Hydra didn’t know about what you and James shared wouldn’t kill them, or at least not yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to look up real, high-end knife brands for James’ gift and now that’s in my search history. Also “sporkful” is apparently not a real word.   
> All comments are welcome!

**Author's Note:**

> What did you think? I'm going to be posting more one-shots of more Marvel heroes soon.


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